


Remembering

by MrRaccoonofRPD



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, zombie!leon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 06:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18244067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrRaccoonofRPD/pseuds/MrRaccoonofRPD
Summary: Can zombies show emotion? Are they capable of thinking? Chris Redfield would have answered 'no' to both of these questions before that fateful night in Raccoon City where instead of finding his sister and getting the hell out of there, he instead met someone else.





	Remembering

The road to Raccoon City was desolate. Not a soul dared traverse it that knew of the Hell on Earth that resides at the end of it; a Hell that wasn’t unlike what someone might see in a Hollywood blockbuster portraying a world-ending apocalypse. Fires that engulf entire skyscrapers, smoke plumes visible for miles, whole streets reduced to nothing but crumbling rubble and an entire city’s populace reduced to meandering and aimless corpses that are yet to rest in peace. It’s truly a sight that one would have anticipated seeing on the silver screen in a cinema, not something anyone would have expected to be their reality.

 

Yet this is where Chris Redfield was now. He is witnessing all of this with the hardened stare of someone who had seen it all before, albeit on a much smaller scale. In Chris’ mind, the Spencer Mansion from a few months prior doesn’t even come close to the truly awful devastation he is seeing and the feeling of helplessness that he is drawing from it. What makes it worse this time around, however, is that his precious baby sister is here. Chris’ only remaining family is here in this Hellhole. She must’ve come looking for me, Chris thought, mentally scolding himself for his lack of communication with her. That is his reason for being here now. He has to rescue his sister. _He has to_. Chris began to make his way to the Raccoon Police Department, his place of employment. If Claire would go anywhere to search for him, her search would most likely start there.

 

“There it is,” Chris exclaimed quietly, not wanting to draw attention to himself, lest the zombies nearby figure out that a tasty meal is closer than they think.

Due to his familiarity with the city it took little time to locate the police station and even less time to get through its gate and into its safer confines. He may be dressed in his civilian clothes, but he was anything but a civilian, if the holster hidden underneath his jacket was any indication. He pushed the front doors open and was hit with a momentary wave of melancholy for a place he would most likely never visit again after today.

 

The main hall of the police station seemed relatively safe. No shuffling or groaning was heard so Chris let his guard down, letting the warm lights of the hall goad him into a feeling of, assumedly, false security.

“Hello?” He called, cautious of the potential dangers that come with greeting a supposedly empty building in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

“Who’s that?” A voice answered. Chris slowly moved towards the source of the voice, glancing over the empty hospital beds that littered the hall, sighing quietly at the story they told. He rounded the beds and couldn’t stop the surprised gasp that escaped him.

“Lieutenant!” He rushed to the injured man’s side, the momentary shock of seeing another person alive here slightly overwhelming.

“Redfield? What’re you doing here?! Weren’t you on vacation?” The Lieutenant, Marvin, didn’t look too happy to see him. “That’s all I need...someone else getting in this nightmare,” This made Chris freeze.

“Someone else? Who else is here?” He frantically asked, kneeling down in front of the Lieutenant. “Was it a woman? With brown red hair? Was her name Claire?” Chris is close to grabbing the Lieutenant’s shirt to shake an answer out of him.

“Her name was Claire, how’d you know?”

“She’s my sister."

“Oh,” Marvin looked down at the computer sitting nearby. “I’m sorry that she’s wrapped up in this Redfield, I really am. I assume that she’s the reason you’re here?” A nod from Chris. “I see. I sent her down the hidden passageway; you remember the one that Elliot used to ramble on about? It needed medallions?”

“I know it,” Chris stood up. “You don’t need to tell me you’re already infected, I can see it,” Chris’ eyes ghosted over the wound in Marvin’s side, now leaking a nasty looking yellow pus.

“Heh. At least I don’t have to tell _you_ that. That reminds me, there was another guy here. Name’s Leon. He hasn’t been back yet so he must still be wandering the station.” Chris is surprised at this. Another survivor? Does Claire know him or is it a coincidence that he’s here at the same time his sister is?

“I’ll go look for him then. Do you think Claire will be safe in the passageway?” Marvin nods.

“It should be safe there. Even if it isn’t, your sister is a tough one. She’ll survive.” Somehow, hearing Marvin say this calmed Chris immensely. Claire just exuded a type of energy that said ‘don’t fuck with me’ to whoever meets her. He guesses Marvin got the same impression. Chris placed his hand on Marvin’s shoulder.

“Alright, I’ll give the station a once over, maybe find this ‘Leon’ guy then I’m going down that passageway. And...” Chris faltered. “If I don’t see you again, thanks for your help Lieutenant.” Marvin smiled the smile of someone who can read between the lines.

“Get outta here, Redfield.” Marvin swatted at Chris’ hand. He headed for the door, now with a new mission in mind.

 

The hallways were surprisingly clear of any dangers. The unmoving bodies of zombies and creatures that didn’t even resemble humans anymore told the tale of someone who is skilled with firearms; calm and controlled when they need to be. Chris could only assume that this was Leon’s handiwork, or maybe Claire’s. If this is Leon’s work, then shit, Chris would be happy to have him as a member of S.T.A.R.S. They could use talent like this.

 

In the middle of Chris’ mental monologue he heard uncoordinated shuffling upstairs. Great, so a few of them are left. It’s fine. This is why Chris brought his Samurai Edge, after all.

“Where are you?” Chris murmured to himself as he made it to the second floor landing, aiming his gun and flashlight anywhere and everywhere. Chris controlled his steps with skill that could only be learned from experience as he headed for the shower rooms, the sound of running water essentially luring him to investigate. The shuffling is louder now; Chris’ target is near the shower room.

 

As he approached he heard a voice, no, a groan that made him stop in his tracks.

“ _...Claaaaiiiiiirrre..._ ”

What? Who said that? What said that? No one aside from himself is in the immediate vicinity. Well, himself and the-

“ _...Claaaaiiiiiirrre..._ ”

There is no way. There is no way that a zombie is groaning out his sister’s name. Zombies don’t talk; don’t have any intelligence. They just wander around until someone puts a bullet in their head. He leaned out from behind the wall that he took cover behind to view at what has him mentally stumped.

 

The zombie is huddled in the corner of the room beside the lockers; head down with its arms encircling its knees. Was this the zombie that groaned out his sister’s name? It must’ve been due to the lack of anybody else present. It looks like it is attempting to surprise Chris by playing dead and catching him off guard when he walks by. Chris has seen this kind of trick an innumerable amount of times and this one is no different. He aims his gun at the zombie’s lowered head.

“ _...Claaaa-aaiiirrre..._ ”

This time its voice sounded wetter, more...sad. Zombies don’t feel emotions, not any more. After a person is turned, that’s it. Their humanity is gone forever. This newfound behaviour peaked Chris’ curiosity. He gradually walked forward, gun held steady as he kneeled down in front of the zombie, which had yet to pay him any sort of attention. He roughly nudged the back of its head with the muzzle of his gun, expecting it to lash out and prove itself worthy of being what it is. It’s slowly raised its head.

 

Its eyes held the stare of the undead, permanently glazed over with bluish fog covering its pupils. It held Chris’ gaze in what one might mistake as interest. Its skin, while not yet decomposing, is an ugly grey that would no doubt get worse with time. The hair covering the side of its face no longer held the sheen that lively hair normally has; instead it has the appearance of dry hay. These are run-of-the-mill observations that come with any zombie Chris has encountered before but one difference caused Chris to refrain from ending the zombie’s miserable existence, for now anyway. Moisture trickling down its cheeks at a rate that would surely mean great distress if it were a regular human crying and not an undead zombie.

“Hey.” Chris, for some reason he couldn’t identify, attempted to speak to and, possibly, console the zombie that most likely isn’t able to understand him in the first place.

“Are you all right?” Now Chris has gone off the deep end. What is he doing, talking to zombies now? It’s not like he’s gonna get a- _It just shook its head_.

“No? Can you speak?” Another shake accompanied by a groan, like it was verbally proving that it indeed couldn’t speak. “Have you seen my sister? Her name is Claire.”

“ _Claaaaiiiiiirrre!_ ” It groaned loudly. Huh, it could only say his sister’s name. Weird.

“ _...Claaaiiirrre..._ ” It groaned again, quieter. More tears leaked out of its eyes, cascading down its dull cheeks. It suddenly lurched forward and Chris indeed thought that this was it. His own stupidity has gotten him killed.

 

But no. He did not feel the searing pain of a chunk of flesh being ripped out of his neck nor did he feel the cold grips of death that must come along with it. All he felt was the weight of the body on top of him and the loose feeling of weak arms encircling his frame. Chris glanced down and was shocked once again tonight. The zombie...is _hugging_ him. It is pressing its face into his chest, wetting his jacket with its soundless crying. Chris felt his heart go out to the zombie. This was once a person that had aspirations, friends, family and a life. Now it is nothing but a corpse, destined to wander the Earth forever groaning out his sister’s name. He wrapped his own arms around it, making up his mind and not really believing that he was about to say this.

“Hey? Do you want to come with me? I can’t imagine staying here would be too much fun.”

The zombie looked up at him and cocked its head before nodding in a way that was too enthusiastic for a zombie. Chris decided to not be surprised by this unique zombie anymore; it clearly doesn’t follow the guidelines that the others’ do.

“Okay, now just let me stand up, would you? You’re kinda crushing me,”

The zombie scrambled off him and stood up, swaying slightly as it stared at Chris slowly getting up from the floor himself. Chris checked himself over, making sure he still had everything before giving his new charge a thorough examination by way of looking.

 

The zombie is wearing an RPD uniform that looks relatively brand new and quite unlike any of the uniforms he has seen on the dead officers thus far. There is a painful looking bloody chunk taken out of its shoulder which must be the source of the infection running rampant in its body. Aside from the chunk, it has minimal injuries that he can see, aside from zombification.

“You stay behind me at all times and don’t wander off anywhere. If you see something dangerous that I haven’t noticed, groan or something. Understand?” A nod. “Good.”

 

The zombie is rather quiet on their way back to the main hall. Chris and his new ‘friend’ checked the rest of the station for any sign of Leon. Well, _Chris_ checked for any sign of Leon, the zombie just stood around and swiveled its foggy eyes, taking in details each room as they went. Chris would occasionally glanced behind him to really look at what exactly he is doing. What is he hoping to achieve? To save the zombie? The second another survivor sees it they would shoot it on sight. Is he just giving it false hope, if it could even feel that much?

 

Chris felt a light tap on his shoulder as they went through the west office. He span around quickly, eyes and gun darting to every corner of the room for any sign of movement that wasn’t his new zombie buddy.

“Jesus, you scared me. What’s up?” Chris asked. The zombie pointed to the sign that hung on the roof.

“’Welcome Leon’. Huh, he must’ve been a rookie, getting a welcoming party and everything,” Chris smiled grimly. Obviously, that party didn’t happen. “What about it?”

The zombie started to repeatedly point at itself and at the sign, a look on its face that begged for it to be understood. Chris’ eyes widened at the implications of what was being communicated to him. He faltered in saying the name, fearful that he may be right.

“...Leon?”

**Author's Note:**

> C'mon, getting munched by zombies and turning into one is the most likely scenario for anyone who ends up in a zombie infested city.


End file.
